


don't you dare look back, keep your eyes on me

by littlereddress



Category: Young & Hungry
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:18:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4795808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlereddress/pseuds/littlereddress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he would let her drag him to hell as long as she held his hand//\\ josh x gabi</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't you dare look back, keep your eyes on me

_it’s always how it has been,_

_calleth you,_

_cometh i._

x

she tastes like every impetuous decision he’s ever made.

she tastes like strawberry ice and dropping out of college and that one time he skateboarded down lombard street and broke both of his wrists and couldn’t code for three weeks.

she tastes like mismatched plaids and a hot summer day on the bay.

it’s goddamn intoxicating.

x

he knows that in high school – hell, in college – a girl like that wouldn’t have spared him a second glance. most girls still only spare him a second glance because he’s pretty sure there are chinging dollar signs in his eyes.

she doesn’t spare him anything. she deals him everything twice over more than he could handle.

x

billionaire nerds in penthouses don’t date girls that wear bodycon dresses and bake cookies in their kitchens.

they marry them.

or at least try to.

x

josh has heard some pretty amazing one liners in his life.

_yes, we have a deal_ , from google when he pitched them an idea for an app, only a week before his twentieth birthday, his withdrawal slip from MIT burning a hole in his pocket.

_you’re clearly making a mistake,_ from his mother the day that he moved out of her new york city penthouse apartment and drove an old ass subaru to silicon valley, only to have her apologize to her son sixth months later.

_the list, thirty under thirty, you’re on it_ , from elliot and yolanda as they danced around his living room, sun winking off the golden gate bridge and clouds absent on an autumn afternoon.

but none are as good as the phrase that he barely heard in a radio soundbooth in a karaoke bar, cheap gin on his mouth and blue collared shirt unevenly rolled at the elbows:

_josh, it’s you._

x

billionaire nerds in penthouses don’t date girls that wear bodycon dresses and bake cookies in their kitchens.

those girls leave and move to zurich.

and the billionaire nerds go back to their staring at their computers, fingers hovering on whether or not to confirm the ticket to europe.

x

she looks like every good thing that has ever happened to him.

she’s sunny days in june and million dollar checks and fish tacos at AT&T park when the giants are winning a double header against the dodgers.

she looks like the kiss against the elevator wall, her fingers fisted on his arms. she looks like his childhood blanket, blindingly beautiful.

it steals his breath.

x

josh has heard some pretty horrible one liners in his life.

_like you’re ever going to be great_ , from the bullies at his new york prep school that had his back against the wall, blood seeping from the puncture in his lip, crimson in his teeth.

_i slept with someone else_ , from caroline the night he met gabi, not knowing that his engagement would be hanging precariously in the balance since that evening ever forward.

_this isn’t going to wor_ k, from kal when the deal goes belly up and his hand feels limp in josh’s own, millions of dollars slipping from his grasp.

nothing is still ever as bad as what comes after the best thing he’s ever heard:

_i can’t do this anymore._

x

he thinks his life hinges on these kinds of moments. ones that seem menial in comparison to work and money and networking, but they’re all he feels like having. moments that mean running to the airport with just his wallet and cell phone, double parking on the curb and being too late. moments that mean slamming a pretty girl against a wall and kissing her until his toes curl. moments that mean what kind of man he is and wants to be and will be,

_for her._

x

the day he met her, he didn’t want grilled cheese.

he wanted her to stay.

something about her, the kind of girl that makes sandwiches for a stranger and wears four inch heels in a city where the sidewalks are an occupational hazard.

the day he met her, he didn’t want to hire to anybody else.

he wanted her to stay.

something about her, the kind of girl that sings karaoke to a stranger in a suit and tie and isn’t ashamed to tell him to dance with her.

x

when she returns the time comes where the thought of seeing her will kill him just as surely as the thought of never seeing her again will. he chooses the first option because at least this way, he can die happy with her tattooed to his eyelids.

x

somewhere along the line where they’re dancing to walk the moon in his kitchen, she’s wearing a pink skirt and frosting cupcakes and his tie is loose and he’s had a few beers, he realizes that he would let her drag him to hell if it meant he got to hold her hand.

and he doesn’t mind a bit.


End file.
